


ice cream

by partlycharlie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bad Smells, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Defecation, M/M, Shit, guy's i'm so sorry for this, it's domestic :), phil takes a shower, poop, uh, why are there no tags for this oh my god, written for the phandomgamesbutstupider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:03:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partlycharlie/pseuds/partlycharlie
Summary: “Holy SHIT, Dan.”Dan grunted. “Told you.”“What the fuck did you EAT today??? Oh my god, it smells like a cow shit its babies out and then got murdered in here, Jesus Christ? What the fuck, did you kill a stinkbug in here or something?”(i'm so sorry)





	ice cream

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [brook](http://optimistphan.tumblr.com) and [sophia](http://phaddy.tumblr.com) for inspiring me to write this piece of shit  
> ha  
> get it  
> shit  
> god i'm sorry
> 
> please don't read this if you are averse to poop

“… la la lalalala, la lala lala…”

“Hey, Phil?”

Phil looked up from where he was brushing his teeth. Just like always, Phil (at some point, though he couldn’t tell you when if you paid him to) had started to hunch awkwardly over the bathroom sink so that he wouldn’t drip any toothpaste onto the floor. 

Sure, it gave him a crick in his neck, but at least when he inevitably retched (curse his shitty gag reflex) it went into the sink, not his socks.

“Yghr? Wash ughsp?” Phil belatedly pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and smiled toothily (and that’s too many mentions of his teeth for him to really be comfortable, but oh well) at Dan, toothpaste starting to drop out of the corners of his mouth (and into the sink!  _Bullseye_!)

Dan snorted out a laugh. “Nevermind. I can wait.”

Phil spit out the toothpaste (again, straight into the sink - he was really on a roll today) and straightened back up, groaning as his back cracked. “Nope - nope, I’m good. What’s up?”

“So.” Dan started to look guilty, and Phil felt his face drop into an over-exaggerated frown. 

“Oh no.”

“It’s nothing bad, I promise! Probably.” Dan waved his hands, as if to cut off Phil’s train of thought, and almost knocked over the hair straightener lying on the counter. “Huh. Why is that there?”

Phil shrugged. “I dunno. Didn’t really think about it.”

He frowned, and started to pace the relatively small space inside their bathroom, doing more of a  _step-turn-step-turn_  than anything else. “But I haven’t used it… and you haven’t either, right? Because you’ve been keeping your hair pretty natural lately, haven’t you? What with the quiff and all… so I don’t really know how -”

“Dan.”

“Hmm?”

“Were you, um.” He tried to think of how to phrase his words as delicately as possible without saying “you stupid fuck, you forgot your own goddamn train of thought”.

(Stupid intrusive thoughts.)

“Were you saying something?”

“Oh. Yeah. I can’t sleep.”

Phil drew in a breath, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came out so he let the air out instead, crossing his eyes momentarily as the sigh puffed out his cheeks. “Have you tried… laying down?” He bent over again and rinsed out his mouth.

“Well - well. No, actually. But I don’t think I could anyway, so. There’s that.” Dan crossed his arms over his chest, looking just slightly defensive.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Phil turned around and leaned his butt against the counter, wincing slightly at the feeling of water touching his butt (he definitely forgot to wipe it down) but not wanting to move and seem like a wimp.

Sure. Maybe it was unreasonable. 

Whatever.

“So what’s up?” he said.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom.”

“… okay? I don’t really see the problem.”

Dan’s eyes darted across the room, avoiding Phil’s gaze at all costs.

“No, like. I  _really_  have to go.  _Badly_.”

“Still not getting it.”

Dan’s mouth folded into itself. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t if I had literally any idea of what you were talking about.” He popped his toothbrush back into the holder and grabbed the bottle of mouthwash, pouring a serving (serving? Was that still the proper term for something that you weren’t supposed to swallow?) into the cap.

“I - fuck, Phil, I have to shit, okay!?!”

Phil’s eyes popped wide open. The mouthwash sloshed around in the cap. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,  _oh_.” Dan rubbed a hand down his face. “So.”

Phil sighed. “Well, I have to shower, like, now, so. I think you’ll just have to deal with me being in the same room while you poop. Is that okay with you?”

Dan’s face contorted into some sort of expression, but Phil couldn’t quite make out what it was. “Your loss, I guess.”

Phil popped the mouthwash into his mouth and swished it around. “Mhm.”

 

\---

 

“Holy SHIT, Dan.”

Dan grunted. “Told you.”

“What the fuck did you EAT today??? Oh my god, it smells like a cow shit its babies out and then got murdered in here, Jesus Christ? What the fuck, did you kill a stinkbug in here or something?”

“Fuck off, you know exactly what that smell is, don’t kid yourself. I don’t know why this is happening - ice cream, maybe?” There was some more splattering in the bowl and another flush.

“What else did you eat today?”

“Um.”

Phil cringed from his spot in the shower. “Are you telling me you ate  _JUST_  ice cream?”

“Yeah. I think.” A crinkle of plastic. “Shit.”

“… yes.”

“No. We’re almost out of wipes.”

“Oh my god? I bought a new pack yesterday??  _And I haven’t used it???_ ” Phil’s voice was slowly rising in pitch until it hit what sounded like a falsetto.

“… yes.”

“Oh my GOD, Dan.” The steady pressure of water coming from behind the shower stopped suddenly, and Phil stumbled out, fully naked, fingers clenched around the tip of his nose. “Oh my god,” he said, using the palm of his other hand to block Dan from his line of sight. “I can’t look at you like this, I just can’t…”

“I’m sorry,” Dan called out as if Phil was on the other side of a building and not this tiny (too tiny, why did they get a bathroom so small?) bathroom. “I told you, though.”

Phil grabbed a towel (he spared a millisecond to mourn the usual process of carefully wrapping three large fluffy white towels around himself) and fled, slamming the door behind him.

“ _I still love yoooooouuuuuuuu_ ,” he heard being called from the other side of the door, but he didn’t respond. Instead, Phil almost collapsed on the floor, bare butt and all, breathing in the (by comparison) almost too-clean scent of the hallway.

“We’re going to need, like, five candles. I don’t know if I can ever go in there again,” he muttered to himself, standing up from the crouch he had unwillingly dropped in to.

As he used one hand to push himself up, the other - still holding the white bathroom towel - brushed past his face, and he got a whiff of the same vile odor as the one from inside the bathroom. 

Somehow, Dan’s bowel scent had infested its way onto Phil’s precious towel. 

He stood there, dripping, hand still lightly covering his nose and towel held as far away from him as humanly possible. 

“…  _shit_.”


End file.
